Lightning and adrenaline twined together in his veins, and he ran like never before.

You are stronger and wiser and freer than you have ever been.

He couldn't tell if he felt like laughing or crying or both, but he accepted his emotions freely. Today, he finally knew his path.

It's time for you to choose good.

He knew he had limited time, he had known the consequences of his father's stalling. But he would fight for this reunion like he had never fought for anything in his life. It was so long delayed.

Look into your heart and see what it is that you truly want.

He wanted to make things right. And that started with getting his uncle back.

At last, he emerged from the bunker and found himself panting in the bright, bright light, his inner flame positively shivering with the sun's power. He ignored the chaos of battle around him. He had one destination in mind.

Uncle.

Home.

Sprinting toward the prison, he thought of what he would say when he got there.

Uncle, I understand now, all the things you tried to tell me. I'm so, so sorry for everything, most of all what I did to you, but I swear on every spirit you ever taught me about that I will make it up to you, and I know it may never be enough, but—

"ZUKO!"

He gasped when he saw the man outside the prison — the man dressed in prison rags, the man with the silver beard and exhilarating but terrifying amber eyes, who had guided him and fathered him and who was shouting his name right now—

"UNCLE!"

He didn't think he could go any faster than he was already going, but he did, and he ran his heart out, getting faster — and closer — and—

—just stopping short of an arm's length away from the man he owed more to than anyone else in the world.

It was time. Now. He had to do it now. This was his final chance.

"Uncle," he gasped, both fear and the exhaustion from his sprint catching up to him. "I— I know you must have mixed feelings about seeing me, after— after everything that I did, but— but I want you to know—"

His voice started to break, and with it the floodgates containing all his weariness and guilt. Hot tears forcefully pushed themselves out the corners of his eyes, and he screwed them up against their onset to no avail.

"I'm so, so sorry, Uncle!" he wept, and his head was spinning with the inadequacy of the words to match the magnitude of his crimes. "I'm so sorry and ashamed of all the things I've done, to you especially! I don't know if or how I can ever make it up to you, but I—!"

He gasped again, shocked into silence by the sudden presence of his uncle's warm, strong arms enfolding him, and his uncle's warm, strong hand gently cradling the back of his head. Being embraced like this, after months and months of cold empty palace comforts and cold empty looks from cold empty eyes — it was wonderful, it was miraculous, it was— it was—

What? But—

"How can you forgive me so easily?" he blurted, and a thousand words tumbled through his mind. It's not supposed to be this way! I thought I'd have to get on my knees and beg, I thought I would have to learn respect all over again, love isn't given, it's earned, why would you love me, please tell me—

"I was never angry with you."

Huh?

"I was sad, because I was afraid you had lost your way."

Every one of the conflicting voices in his head was struck dumb.

He… isn't angry?

"But... I did lose my way."

Uncle Iroh gripped his shoulders and looked him in the eyes, and suddenly Zuko felt realer than he had ever felt in his life. He wasn't an unwanted child any longer, nor was he the banished prince or the Blue Spirit or even the unnamed imposter he had become upon his return to the Fire Nation. He was just… Zuko.

Zuko, son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai.

Zuko, called by destiny a thousand times over.

Zuko, abandoned so he could find his way, on his own, at long last.

Uncle smiled, and told him exactly that.

"But you found it again. And you did it by yourself. And I am so happy you found your way here."

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Zuko decided not to fight it. He decided to let his Uncle hold him close, to let himself be loved. Maybe this truly was how love was meant to be — completely and eternally unconditional, with no judgement, no criteria, and no comparison.

Zuko let go of the breath he had been holding, put his arms around his uncle, and for a perfect moment, they were the only things in the world.